Femme Fatale
by Techne
Summary: Words wove with silk, she could talk her way into the wallet of both man and woman. Nights filled with sex and desperation to prolong ones life in a world ruled by men. That was, until she met him. Now, shes his assassin and will stop at nothing to prove her worth to him. -Fiora Cavazza's life as a Templar, up to her untimely betrayal at the hands of Cesare Borgia.-
1. Chp 1: Ambitions

**Femme Fatale**  
An Assassin's Creed Fan-Fic

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Story is rated MATURE for disturbing content and adult situations. Please be warned that it is meant for a mature audience only.

I've been a fan of Assassin's Creed since it first came out in 2007. What I liked the most about it was its expansive open-ended world that you can play in and most importantly, the diverse characters that you encounter throughout the story. For some time now, I've been combing through the archives, looking for a decent story written about my favorite character. However, I haven't been able to find any. So, I came up with the idea for writing a story of my own about the character that interests me the most. Although Fiora Cavazza isn't an important character to the actual series, she does play important parts in the background of AC2 and AC: Brotherhood and I'm intrigued to see what I can come up with. There will also be several references drawn from the 2011 Showtime TV Series, "The Borgia's". I've only recently started watching it, but I do plan to incorporate several of its events into the story, so be looking for it in future chapters.

For those of you who don't know who Fiora is, then you will most recognize her from AC: Brotherhood's Online Multiplayer as the "Courtesan". I wanted to expand on this character, as I feel there isn't enough about her that we know of. What drove her to fall for Cesare? And why did she not question the morals that came with being a Templar Agent under his guidence? Most importantly, I want to show the events that lead up to her betrayal at the hands of Cesare Borgia. However, there will be various differences within the story that you'll be able to take notice of right away. I won't go into details about it, its something that you will have to keep an eye out for as the story progresses.

I have done a seemingly endless amount of research on the stories, characters, events, etc, to be as faithful to the game and history as possible, while showing my own view of things.

Questions, comments, and reviews are always welcome.

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**Chapter One**  
**Ambitions**

**"How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant with the weak and wrong...because sometime in your life you will have been all of these."**

**- George Washington Carver.**

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The streets of Roma boomed with laughter. Music filled the air. People danced along to the lute's musical tone, various instruments playing along in harmony. Fireworks went off in the streets, lighting the darkening sky up. Street performers enticed the crowds with their performance. Children clapped in approval at the juggling of several apples, while another showed various knife handling tricks.

A Minstrel sat on the steps leading down to where the celebrations were taking place. He was playing his instrument and singing of his experiences from traveling the country side with his father when he was younger. A crowd had begun to form around him. People tossed florins onto the mat that sat at his feet. He plucked its strings with precision, each sound more vibrant than the last. The small crowd roared in approval. He paid no attention to them. He was too consumed with his task that a brief pause would disrupt his entire performance.

Several guards were harassing a merchant. Shoving him roughly between the circle of armored men that had gathered around him. He pleaded for his life, begging them not to hurt him, but it was futile. The guards began to strike him in the face, kicks and punch's pounding into his fragile body. Not a single person moved to help. No one cared as long as it wasn't being done to them.

Elsewhere, a young woman walked the crowded street. She passed through the crowd unnoticed, paying no attention to the performers as they held little value to her. She held her head high, walking with such grace that normally wasn't a trait of Roma's many courtesan's. However, she was no normal courtesan.

Her name was Fiora Cavazza; she was a courtesan employed by the _Rosa in Fiore_.

A place frequented by drunkards, nobles who had little interest in their wives and_ porco's _out looking to place a fine set of thighs above them. The stink of sweat, sex and wine would always be heavy in the air. No doubt a scent which most had become accustomed to and no longer had their senses assaulted by it.

It wasn't something that she was very proud to speak of when in the chambers of her clients. To Fiora, that place was beneath her. She saw little reason to why she even stayed there, but after having traveled to Roma after being banned from _La Rosa Colta_ several years ago, she found work here.

However, it wasn't the worst brothel in Roma. At least Fiora could say that much. The owner would put out money to make all the necessary improvements to the building they renovated in order to ascertain the finest clients and keep them coming back.

Besides, it wasn't as if she could go to any of the other places in Roma.

For the time being, Fiora found it best not to complain. She wouldn't be there for the rest of her life. Something bigger and much more rewarding than that run down place would come along. All it took was patience.

Having traveled to the northern centro district of Roma today, she was looking forward to an evening of relaxing in her private room and take a warm bath. A day of attending to her clients and making their every fantasy come true had exhausted her. Her clients were mostly nobles whose brides were no longer an interest to them. She had little interest for their personal lives however. Her interest laid with the florins in their coin purse. If you could pay her price, Fiora would go down on you.

_Speaking of florins._ She removed her own purse from her belt and smiled vibrantly as she walked over to where a merchant stand was at. The merchant was an elder man, his skin dark and wrinkled from age. He smiled at her, a toothless grin that had her fighting a repulsive look from her face.

"How may I be of service?" He asked.

Fiora looked over the bottles of wine, trying to decide if they were worth buying. Usually the merchants never imported the wine she drank. Instead, she would have to always import it herself. Lucky for her, she wouldn't have to this time. At the end of the row of wines sat a red bottle of wine. Conditum was what her friends called it, a spiced wine from Capua.

"I'll take this one." After paying the merchant, Fiora walked away.

The _Rosa in Fiore_ wasn't that far now.

First she would check in with Madonna Solari and give her the brothel's cut of her take for the day. Afterwards, she would enjoy a good meal. Then, Fiora was going to shut herself off from the rest of the girls. Not that she cared much for them anyways. It was no secret that she was the most asked for courtesan amongst them and therefore, was the most hated between the girls of the brothel.

She now stood inside the grand foyer of the _Rosa in Fiore_. It was truly breathtaking. Rich plush carpets and shiny marble tiles covered the floors. The walls were papered with an elegant red design and paneled with dark cherry wood. Beautiful paintings adorned some of the walls. The furniture looked expensive and all the tables held jeweled trinkets and picture frames with classical photos. The first floor was encircled by an elegant wooden railing that was decorated with deep red tapestries. On both sides of the floor were decorative chairs. Several candelabras were scattered about the room in various intervals, illuminating the dark foyer with light. Two stairways finished the way to the second floor, one going left and the other, right. The second floor had a balcony that completely encircled the room. Several more doors and oil paintings were on the balcony itself.

Her gaze traveled around the foyer, searching for Madonna Solari. It was hard to do, there were numerous guests at the brothel tonight and it was hard to distinct one woman from the next when they all were dressed in the same fashion.

Laughter filled the room. A group of courtesans off to her left were entertaining several men with a dance they'd been taught by a woman from Egypt. Such a strange dance it was. Fiora hadn't been as eager to learn it as the others had, prefering her natural talents of seduction over cheap entertainment.

Finally spotting Madonna Solari over near the bar, she made her way through the crowd and to where she was at. Her brother was standing next to her, the two Solari siblings speaking with a man she did not recognize or care to know. They both greeted her with smiles, a thin veil plastered over the scowl they usually wore when in her presence. The man looked at her with interest, his eyes scrutinizing her from her breasts, down to her groin.

Once again, Fiora surpressed a repulsive look.

"_Salute_, Madonna Solari." She said with a practiced smile. "I have brought in my take for the day and here is your cut."

Handing the pouch to Madonna Solari, she watched as the woman weighed the bag in one hand to measure its worth. The Solari's never did trust anyone with their money, making it hard for those who were in debt to them.

"_Ottimo_, you are dismissed for the night, Fiora."

Wishing them a well night, she departed from their company.

She made her way through the brothel and was ascending the stairs when a much younger courtesan came out of one of the many rooms on the second floor. Spotting Fiora, the courtesan smiled and waved at her.

"Good evening, Lucia." Fiora said as she joined one of the few she considered a friend on the second floor.

"_Salute_, Fiora. I was beginning to worry that you might not be coming back." The young courtesan smiled, her innocence making her look even younger. Lucia had just joined the brothel and had yet to procure any clients like the other girls had done when they first began.

Fiora smiled. "You know I could never leave someone as beautiful as you."

She smiled and softly patted the young courtesan on the head.

Leaving the innocent girl to her muses, she brushed past her and headed to where her room was.

"And get Giuletta to bring me some geese and a salad, I'm famished."

Not waiting to hear Lucia's answer, she pushed open the door to her bed chamber and entered. It was spacious and elegant, a large bed was in the center. The bed was cherry wood and had a red canopy. The rest of the room continued the red theme. Unlike the other girls who often invited their guests to their bed chambers, Fiora prefered never to taint her sheets with the smell of sex and sweat.

Stripping out of her dress, Fiora tossed it into the corner. A cool breeze blew in through the open window across from her, chilling her sweaty skin as she traveled past the window and into the room next to hers where her bath was located at. Her skin was grimy, the sweat of her days work leaving her feeling clammy and in great need of a bath.

Water was needed and after fetching some from the well, she stripped down to her bare skin. Stepping into the tub, a shiver traveled down her spine and through her body. Once she sat down in the tub, she laid her head back and relaxed. It felt good to relieve the days stress. The warm water relaxed her tense muscles. It melted away her troubles, even if it were just for the night.

When she was done with her bath, Fiora dried off and changed into an evening gown. She combed her hair, walking over to where her bed was at and saw a silver tray. There was a geese leg and a salad on the plate per her request, the utensils required for her meal lying next to the tray. Without hesitation, she picked up her utensils and began to eat. She uncorked the wine as well, drinking several cups of the uniquely spiced wine as she ate her meal.

Outside her window, the festivities could still be heard. At this rate they would last well into the night. Maybe she would venture out to celebrate with the rest of the citizens of Roma after she had her fill of the food and wine.

It was a good meal. Left her feeling content and well fed for the evening.

She sighed, resting her head against a pillow as she laid there in silence. One day, she really needed to get out of the _Puttana_ business. There had to be better things in life, something in her life particularly that didn't always involve having some druken fool shove his cock inside of her. Often Fiora would grow tired of her duties so quickly, that she'd resort to faking it. She liked to think of this as a temporary part of her life, but then, hadn't she told herself the exact same thing the first time she'd done this as a teenager?

"It would be best if the past stayed where it was," She whispered aloud. To this day, Fiora was haunted by her first time with a man. It was a topic of which she never spoke of with any of the other girls, not that they would care to know either way. Still, she was resigned to never let a word of it spill forth from her mouth.

Finished with her food, she set the dish to the side and left her room.

She was craving entertainment, not caring where it came from as long as it was something that lived up to her standards. A woman like her deserved the best. You wouldn't get very far in this world if you expected anything less. This was something she'd told herself over and over as a child.

Heading downstairs, she felt eyes on her instantly. Heads turned from their private conversations with the other girls to watch her as she descended to the first floor. There were other eyes on her, though, not ones of men. All around her, the other girls were giving her looks of jealousy at how easily she had stolen their potential clients attention just by merely walking down to where they were all gathered at.

She sat down at the bar, deciding to have another drink before heading out to the festivities. The bartender stood in front of her, exchanging unspoken words with her as he sat down a glass of wine in front of her on the counter. She picked up the cup, inhaled the fruity scent of the wine and tasted it. It felt good to be able to relax for the evening, to enjoy the festivities going on in Roma while her fellow courtesan's worked.

Behind her, footsteps could be heard approaching.

An elderly man strode through the crowded room and sat down on one of the stools next to her.

Glancing to her right, she noticed that the man was dressed in priest robes. He was bald and quite skinny. He had a solemn look on his face, a look that would chill a person to the bones, silencing them with just a glance. Fiora recalled encountering this man quite often at the_ Rosa in Fiore_. His name was Geoffrey Ristoro. If she remembed, he was a Minim—a man of religious faith that varied from others that were practiced in Roma. Despite his religious vows, Brother Ristoro was a frequent visiter to the brothel. There was word throughout the city that Brother Ristoro had perversions that were unknown to the priesthood he claimed to work under. He was known as a dangerous man, who was not afraid to kill those who questioned his behavior.

"Good evening, _bella donna_." His voice cut through the air like a knife, poisoning the very air that Fiora breathed in.

Fiora just turned her head away.

She was completely disgusted by the man. If he could even be called that.

Although, Fiora sometimes had to wonder if maybe it was fear rather than disgust.

Fiora had heard of the things he did to the women in his private congregations: how they were broken shells of their formers selves once they left his care, and the looks in their haunted eyes as they lived out what remained of their lives. Even courtesans had fallen to the fate Brother Ristoro left upon them. Fiora had told herself she would never be foolish enough to fall to his tainted words. There wasn't a man in this world that could charm her.

He simply smiled, picking up the cup of wine that had been sat down in front of him and began drinking from it.

"Do not worry, my child." He spoke in a hushed tone. "You are not a concern with which my perversions as you call them, have any interest in."

She looked at him, a venomous glare crossing her face.

She loathed how easy it was for this man to read her. Never in her life had Fiora come across someone who could read her so easily, not since courting the Medici and being discovered to have a client relationship with Lorenzo de' Medici.

"I do not believe I concern myself with any of your activities, Brother Ristoro." In truth she didn't. If a woman was dumb enough to believe the words that a man spoke and not question them, then that was a foolhearted feat on their behalf. Fiora knew where the interest of the male gender lied when it came to a woman and it surely wasn't what she had to say.

"Then tell me, child. Why are you so tense?"

She hadn't even realised it until just now that he was right. To be honest, it wasn't tension that had her looking this way, it was him.

"You disgust me, that's why."

Brother Ristoro let out a dry laugh before drinking what wine remained in his cup.

"Come now, child. You shouldn't talk to a priest that way."

Fiora scoffed. "You call what you do being a _priest_?"

No longer interested in conversating with Brother Ristoro, she laid down a florin on the counter to pay for her drink and slid off the stool.

Once outside the _Rosa in Fiore_, she looked around at the festivities that were still taking place.

The sun had gone down, dusk settling over the country-side and washing over the city of Roma. More people had come out to _Carnevale_ now, making the crowded streets of Roma even thicker than what they had initially been earlier. By now the children had all left for their beds, leaving only the lustful adults looking for specialties regarding a different entertainment. The show went on however, the entertainers stepping up their routines to breath new life into their stale acts.

What had once been a festival full of the average citizens of Roma and their children, now gave way to the more sinister people: those who dwelled in the shadows, watching the moves of those who were either too naive to notice them or were just as deadly. Those were the people who now walked the streets.

Off to her left, a fire breather was enticing the crowf with a trick. He had several cups set up on the street and when he blew his fire over them, they would all light up. It didn't require much knowledge to know that the cups held oil inside. Maybe the crowd didn't know, but she did. Minstrels had increased in numbers with the night drawing nearer. Their voices filled the night with a sense of feeling that Fiora had once read in a book as a child before her parents deaths.

Fiora sighed.

_Don't even think about it_. She quickly brought her attention away from the memory of her parents villa the day it was set ablaze during a riot that was taking place in the country outside of Firenze.

Leaning up against the smooth stone wall to her right, Fiora watched as a group of people began dancing the Mascherata, a dance that had become popular in Firenze over the years and had slowly begun making its way into the carnevales in Roma. She didn't particularly see what was so special about it. The underlying tone of the dance was more satarical than serious, often relying on racial remarks to entertaine those that danced when it was performed. The people dancing were likely ignorant of this.

The door to the _Rosa in Fiore_ opened, several of the girls stepping out into the night to look for their next clients as the clergies went home for the night. Naive girls who thought they had a shot at making it big. All of them were relatively young. The ideal age where if they had an attractive appearance they could swindle their way into the pockets of any man or woman they came across.

_What do we have here?_

Among those was Lucia. She was wearing a red dress, had her dark hair tied up in a bun and a smile that looked forced. Fiora had a feeling of dread dawn on her, there was something strange about how she kept glancing over her shoulder, as if she were being followed by someone.

Deciding to seek further knowledge of what was going on, Fiora pushed off of the wall and began to walk with the crowd. While following Lucia through the streets, she looked around, hoping to spot whoever might be following the young courtesan. This proved useless. No one stood out, everyone was too busy cheering on the entertainment to be concerned with a simple _puttana_ walking the streets.

For several minutes Fiora followed her as she weaved through the crowd unnoticed by Lucia. She still had no idea who was following Lucia, there was still a large crowd of people gathered around them and anyone of them could be the person. Whoever it was, they were a master at blending into the crowd, a feat which she had yet to ascertain for herself.

After following Lucia for several minutes, she saw the young courtesan take a cautionary look around before stepping into an alley and disappearing in the dark shadows. Quirking her brow, Fiora hastened her walk and followed into the dark alley after her. She found it strange that no one else had entered. Perhaps Fiora was just being a bit to cautious for her young acquaintiance.

From somewhere up ahead, a light scream was heard.

Sprinting forward, she came to a stop at the corner of the alley and then peaked around to see what was taking place.

Right away, Fiora could tell that this man was no client of hers that she'd come to meet for the evening. There was something about the way he had himself pressed up against her.

Lucia was pressed against the wall of the alley, a man leering over her as she struggled in his grip. The young courtesan let out a whimper as he took a tousel of hair and smelled it, a grin breaking out on his repulsive face.

All too many times had Fiora come across men like this during her younger years as a courtesan; she knew how they thought and what they wanted. There was no way she was going to allow him to do any harm to such an innocent person—not if she had anything to say about it.

He had his hands on her waist, running them down the length of her body to hike up her dress.

Too afraid to do anything, Lucia stood there pressed against the wall as the _bastardo's_ hands explored her inexperienced body and caressed the firm skin of her inner thigh's. He pulled a knife from his belt, placing it to her neck and telling her to be quiet, or he would slit her throat open. Lucia quietly obeyed.

Observing the scene, Fiora clenched her fist. The sick _bastardo_ was planning to have his way with her and not in the way which a courtesan's service provided.

"Please, stop, I beg you." Lucia whispered.

"I was very unsatisfied with our negotiations at the whore house," He breathed into her ear, tenderly touching the tip of the blade to her cheek. "You owe me more than a simple touch to my penis, you filthy _puttana_."

No longer being able to watch, Fiora walked towards the two. Her footsteps were deliberate, barely a whisper over the noises the _porco_ was making as he began to tear away at Lucia's dress.

Grabbing his arm, Fiora kicked his leg down and forced the man to his knees. She pushed his arm outward, the sound of bone breaking echoed throughout the cramp quarters of the alley. A scream erupted from the _porco_, the knife held in his hand dropping the ground and he stumbled back from the two women. He laid against the wall, clutching his broken arm and cursing the two _puttana's_ standing in front of him.

"_Cagna_!"

The man ran out of the alley, his cursing overshadowed by the roaring festivities.

Turning to Lucia, she studied the frightened girl for a moment. Looking over her torn dress, checking for any injuries that might require for her to be taken to a doctor.

"_Grazie_, Fiora." Lucia whispered.

Fiora said nothing, instead picking up the knife that had just been held to her friends neck and placed it into her pouch.

She stared into the girls eyes, wondering what would compell her to do something to stupid. The young courtesan irritated her sometimes, especially her aptitude for bringing trouble to her, forcing Fiora to have to deal with them.

It was also what she loved about Lucia. She was an angel among demons, walking the streets of Roma with more worth than what she ever would. If only she would get out of the profession they followed and sought out a better life; perhaps as a herbalist or a doctor.

Her charm would be the death of her one day, forever drawing her in, no matter how strongly she resisted the innocent looks Lucia gave her. It was a mistake, one Fiora wasn't proud of, but she found that she didn't care. Damn those who spat at them. They were above all others. If anyone were to ever try to separate them, she would slit their throats herself and rejoice in the blood that spilled forth as her laughter filled the night.

"Is something wrong, Fiora?"

"No, _amore mio_. Nothing is wrong."

Fiora then cupped her chin and kissed her gently on the lips.


	2. Chp 2: The Poisoned Chalice

**Chapter Two**  
**The Poisoned Chalice**

**By now I'm sure a lot of you have noticed several differences between my story and the actual events in the game. The reason behind all of these changes are to make it more realistic, most of what we see in Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood is made to fit into a more interactive game, but in real life, would not have happened. To me, it makes better sense this way. If you disagree then its entirely up to you, however its my story, I reserve the right to give it a more realistic touch if I deem it necessary.**

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The streets of Roma were enveloped in darkness. Traces of daylight had long since disappeared, giving way to the pale glow of the moon's reflection on the Tiber river. A group of guards marched through the streets, making their rounds as they waited impatiently for the next shift to come relieve them of their duty. The distant echoing voice of a Herald could be heard, preaching to the gullible who still walked the streets during the night time.

A figure moved through the shadows, barely noticeable above the whisper that was made as she traversed the rooftops gracefully. Carefully, she avoided the patrols that were out on the rooftops tonight, and using the shadows of the night, she moved silently past the Archers and Arquebusiers that occupied the rooftops of many of the surrounding buildings.

Scaling the rooftops, Fiora made sure to place her feet in specific spots as to avoid any chance of someone hearing her. Years of practice had given her the ability to know where exactly to place her feet on the structures. It made it almost impossible for anyone to hear her as she moved through the dark. Being out this late, if she were to encounter any guards they were bound to take her to _Castel Sant'Angelo_. Ending up there was a death sentence, one which she had no intention of ever serving.

She was traveling to the Vaticano District tonight. One of her more influential clients had sent word to her by a messenger that he wished to meet with her tonight. Arturo Manfredi was a cardinal, making him a very powerful ally of hers and one that she didn't want to lose. He was also one of the few clients of hers that she enjoyed spending time with. In exchange for sexual favors, he procured many things for her that without his help, Fiora would have never been able to get.

Leaping from the roof, she reached out and grasped the railing of the balcony on the next house. Hoisting herself upwards, Fiora climbed over the ledge and landed gracefully on the marble flooring. Not wasting any time, she walked over to the opposite side of the balcony and slid down the ladder to the street below. There were no guards around, so the sounds Fiora made went unheard as she slipped though the dead of night towards her destination.

The Vaticano District was very different from the other areas of Roma. The clean, well kept buildings sat right at the west bank of the Tiber river. Occupied by the rich nobles and the families of those who worked for the Vatican, there was never any crime there, as they always made sure to have the streets heavily patrolled by Papal Guards. All the waste was dumped into the Tiber river, the gutters clean of the days waste by nightfall. Many of the most popular buildings in Roma resided there such as _Basilica di San Pietro_, the _Capella Sistina_, and the _Castel Sant'Angelo_.

Darting across the street, she hid in a bell of hay as a guard walked by. His armor clanked loudly in the otherwise silent night, the spear held in his hands propped against his right shoulder as he moved down the dimly lit street. When enough distance had been put between her and the patrol guard, Fiora rolled out of the hay and then continued forward.

She had worn a long dark red dress. The form-fitting article hugged her curves and showed off her body—garnering the attention of any horny man who would pass her by on the streets. A split ran up the length of the dress, ending at her hip and showing off her supple limbs. She rather liked this dress, the fact that it was chilly outside not bothering her. It also helped that when she went to see her important clients that she dressed to impress, thus was her reasoning for wearing the dress. Men were easy to ensnare, so long as you had a nice set of breasts and a gorgeous body. A trait which Fiora had taken advantage of on multiple occasions.

As she moved further down the street, Fiora could hear voices up ahead. The way they were talking told her they were in a heated argument, both trying to speak over the other. Down the street in front of her, the lanterns above a door were lit and the door was hanging open, casting a dim glow on the area. Quickly, she ducked around the corner and listened. Fiora noticed that it was Arturo and a man that she did not recognize.

"Very well. That is our decided deal then?" Arturo asked him.

The hooded individual nodded. "I shall be ready when you need me, but be warned, I will not wait long."

Both men looked around before the man dressed in black left.

Something was strange about the way they had both looked around, as if being able to sense her presence. Whoever the man was, it was of no concern to her. She was here for one thing and that was to learn what she could from the cardinal, among other things.

She stood there for several minutes. Unsure of whether or not to go inside, Arturo was bound to suspect that Fiora had been eavesdropping on their conversation if she were to arrive at his house so soon.

For several minutes, Fiora stood there waiting in silence.

When Fiora felt that enough time had gone by, she walked up to the door and knocked on it gently. Her heart was still hammering in her chest, adrenaline coursing throughout her lithe body. Footsteps approached from the other side of the door, the door opened and a man greeted her.

"_Salute_, Fiora." Arturo said with a smile. He glanced down the street both ways and ushered for her to come inside.

His house was well decorated. Nothing short of the wealth that being a cardinal gave from years of servitude to the lord that they claimed to serve. It was nothing like the rundown shacks that she would bed with other clients in when they had to meet in secret because of not wanting anyone to know about their arrangements. Cardinal Manfredi left nothing out when it came to living life.

"_Amore mio_, how nice of you to be able to come out here on this fine evening." He cupped her cheek with his hand, gently rubbing his finger over her lips.

Fiora smiled. "Well, how could I say no to my most valued client?"

Arturo chuckled as the two of them walked further into his house.

"My wife is staying at her sister's; she has developed a serious case of Syphilis."

Frowning, she tilted her head to the side. "How unfortunate for her."

"Indeed. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to prepare us some wine so that we may discuss the terms of our arrangement for the night." With that said, he left her alone in the living room to go to his kitchen to pour them both a glass of wine.

Fiora sat down on the couch that sat close to the fireplace as she waited for him to return. Staring at the fire, she watched as the flames licked at the stone interior and embers plumed up from the sparse billows of smoke that rose up. It was beautiful. The embers reminded her about the story of the mythological Phoenix her mother had told her as a child, how with each death, it was born again from its ashes.

Leaning back in the chair, Fiora relaxed and waited for Arturo to return. It was taking him a surprisingly fair amount of time just to prepare some wine for the two of them. It made her suspicious. Turning in the direction of the kitchen, she was tempted to get up and go see if there was something wrong.

It was unusually quiet. The only sound came from the crackling of the fire in front of her.

Curiosity overtaking her, the Courtesan stood up and decided to go check on Arturo. Entering the kitchen, Fiora looked around for where Arturo might have gone, only to find the older man reentering the kitchen from the cellar with a bottle of very expensive wine in his hands.

"I was worried something might have happened to you." She confessed before mentally striking herself. Showing emotion for a man was something that Fiora never did, especially one that was a client. To her, it was unprofessional to become attached to a single client and it gave most men the impression that they owned her. And no one owned Fiora Cavazza.

Arturo smiled, "Do not worry; I am fine."

Popping off the cork to the bottle of wine, Arturo silently poured some of the dark liquid into two cups and then set the bottle down next to it. Taking her glass in one hand, she wrapped her elegant fingers around the glass and smelled the precarious sin. The pair walked back to the living room where they sat down, Fiora sat opposite of her client while he drank from his cup, downing it all in one gulp.

Fiora drank from her cup, taking the time to appreciate the delicate taste of the wine whereas Arturo had simply downed it. It was rare that her clients treated her to such delicacies, surely there was something important that he wished of Fiora in her services on this evening.

"So, you wish to discuss our arrangements for the evening. Is that correct?"

Arturo nodded. "Yes."

A smirk wove its way to the corner of her mouth, "By all means, speak."

"Of course, our usual arrangement will be on the table. Your services for the entire night for five hundred florins. I'm sure that is more than fair enough."

Fiora nodded.

It would seem that it would be the usual fare with Arturo. Fiora had been hoping that he would change out the routine. The simple tasks that she used to pleasure him were starting to become unappealing to her. Years of using the same tricks on her clients had taken the sexual satisfaction out of it; the ecstasy that came with having a man drive his cock into her was beginning to lose its blissfulness.

She looked over at Arturo, he seemed to be pondering on whether or not he should ask her something.

"Is there something else you wanted to discuss?"

"Well," Arturo seemed to become a bit nervous all of a sudden. "There has been a new form of sexual pleasure that has recently been brought to Roma from Constantinople, have you heard of it?"

Fiora was puzzled. She had not been informed by any of the other girls at the brothel that there were new ways of pleasuring their clients that had been discovered. However, Fiora also expected this to be some form of retaliation for stealing their clients from them.

"No, I have not. Tell me what it is."

"It's called Fellatio." Arturo explained to her. "A woman places the man's cock in her mouth, giving him oral sexual satisfaction in the form what is being commonly referred to among the other citizens of Roma as a 'Blow Job.'"

She thought about what he was asking of her for a moment. Truly this was a strange form of sexual pleasure that he was telling her about. Never before had Fiora heard of any of the girls giving their clients " 'Blow Job's"; perhaps she should start doing it as well. Although, it went against her preferences when it came to what she would and wouldn't do for her clients. A man's cock was meant to be placed between a woman's thighs, not her lips. It was an insult to her profession.

"No, I will not provide this service for you, Arturo. A man's cock was meant to be placed between a woman's thighs, not her lips."

Arturo didn't seem pleased with her response, his face becoming a bright red as he failed to conceal the boiling anger within.

"You would dare deny me this, you filthy _puttana_!"

In an instant he'd knocked the wineglass from her hand, its contents spilling to the expensive carpeting at her feet. Her eyes trailed from the fallen cup to Arturo, a look of disbelief on Fiora's face over his reaction to her decline in that service. Of all the clients she'd courted over the years, he was the last one she'd expected to act this way. Although it didn't much surprise her, most men expected to never be rejected by their mistress of all people.

She just sighed.

_Men and their little fits, they never cease to amaze me._

A smug look wound its way onto his face, Arturo excused himself from the room and walked back into the kitchen.

She didn't like the way he'd been smiling, a foreboding unease finding its way into her stomach and making her tense up. It made her wonder just how far Arturo would go in retaliation for her rejection. Surely he wouldn't be so foolish and toss away everything the two shared just because she wouldn't suck his cock. Suppressing a giggle, Fiora crossed her legs and made sure to keep her guard up as she awaited his return.

Minutes later, she was beginning to suspect that there was something wrong.

Getting to her feet, Fiora walked into the kitchen and looked around. Without thinking, she reached for the thin needle that was hidden beneath the dress she wore, but it was too late, as a strong hand took hold of her arm and threw her across the floor. She slammed into the kitchen table, taking out its legs and sending the dishes that sat on it flying into the air, the expensive china smashing all around her.

Adrenaline pumped through her as she scrambled to get to her feet, the impossibly large man that had come out of nowhere looming over her and scooping her up with one thick hand. He took hold of the sleeve of her dress, the fabric shredding to pieces as she was slammed roughly against the counter, a beefy fist smashing in her gut and knocking the breath out of Fiora. A groan escaped her lips, pain streaking through her as more punches were dealt to her.

When the battery was over, the beast of a man carried her limp form across the kitchen, entering the lounge and over to where Arturo was sitting at. He held in his hand another wineglass, a smug look on his face as she was thrown onto the couch in front of him.

Fiora laid on the couch, to broken to move as she stared at the man whom she had thought would never harm her in such a way. Each breath was labored with agony. Blood ran down the left side of her face from where she'd been slammed against the wall, and if she had to guess, Fiora also thought her right arm might be broken. Regardless, she thought it best not to move an inch until she was allowed to leave, not unless she wanted another beating.

"My dear," He considered the wine in the glass for a moment, took a sip and continued. "How foolish of you to think that _you_ decide what we will and won't do. You may believe to be in control of our sexual escapades, but I assure you, that we did nothing I didn't want to do."

"Y-You _bastardo_." She groaned, placing a hand over her bruised mid-section as her stomach squirmed with streaks of pain.

"_Mia bella_," Letting out a sigh, he shook his head. "It pains me to do that to you, but, I will not be denied what is rightfully mine. You belong to me, Fiora. You will be fucked by me and only me; my cock will be the last one you feel inside of you as the life bleeds from your body."

Slowly, her hand traveled down her broken body unnoticed to where the needle was tucked away at beneath her dress. Anger was burning bright inside of her chest. The pain she'd endeared made it a challenge for her to lift even a finger, but she winced through it and slid a blood covered finger over the slit of her dress.

Arturo continued his flaunted speech, completely unaware of her intention. She always did think him to be overconfident and this was just the opportune trait that Fiora could take advantage of, ending the lives of both that _lurido porco _and his monolithic bodyguard.

"You see, Fiora. That is where..." He stopped in midsentence, his eyes narrowing into slits as daggers flew in her direction. "Pay attention when I'm speaking to you, woman."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

She could play along for a few more minutes.

While he kept talking, she slipped the needle from its clothe strap and patiently waited for the right moment to strike. She was only going to get one chance at this, and if she were to mistaken an opportunity, Fiora surely would be killed. If only she could get past the guard and stab him, she'd have nothing to worry about then. The needle in her hand had been dipped in poison, one little break of the skin and you'd die within minutes.

Casting a glance over at the guard, Fiora noticed he was staring off to the right.

_GO!_

With cat-like reflexes, she thrusted the needle forward and pierced the knee of the guard. He yelped in mild shock, not understanding what had happened before it was too late. Blinking in confusion, he glanced down at her. Opening his mouth to speak, nothing came out, say for a gurlge that quickly began to turn into convulsions as he dropped to the floor.

Arturo sat in his chair, paralyzed from fear at how it had been so easy for her to take down such a big man. He'd thought her a tamed woman someone dangling from the other end of the leash he held in his hands. However, it would appear that he'd thought wrong. Turning to face him, Fiora limped towards Arturo, a devious look on her face as she motioned for him to come to her.

Revenge was sweet, and tonight, Fiora had a craving for candy.


	3. Chp 3: A Man Named Cesare

**Chapter Three**  
**A Man Named Cesare**

**For those of you wondering, the whole point of the previous two chapters was to give insight to Fiora's life prior to her being chosen by Cesare to join the Templar ranks. Writing this chapter was a bit of a challenge, as I wanted to portray a realistic version of Cesare (who in reality wasn't as insane as the game portrays him to be), give both him and Fiora a reason for working together other than simply him threatening to kill her if she didn't, as I think there was an actual relationship between the two in the beginning.**

* * *

It truly was a beautiful day to be outside. The sun was shining brightly down on the city of Roma and the temperature was just right, a slight breeze blowing in the air. Turquoise water flowed through the small river that separated the _Isola Tiberina_ and the Centro District from one another. Fisherman sat along the docks, reeling in their lines to bring in the catch of the day.

Walking through the city streets, Cesare Borgia maneuvered through the crowd. No one dare look at him, fear in their eyes as he cast his gaze over him before they looked away from him. Their hushed talking made the corner of his mouth turn upwards into a smile; it let him know that his word was law and that no one would challenge it. And those who did? Well, there was a special place in the _Castel Sant'Angelo_ for those who defied the word of the Borgia.

The sun beat down on him more than usual. He couldn't remember the last time it had been this hot in Roma, the clothe he wore sticking to him from perspiration. Around this time of the year, it was common for the days to get hot, but, this was madness.

"My lord, I just received word from one of our informants that Madame Solari has just returned from her stay in Napoli and is at her brothel." The soldier was standing beside him, walking with him as they talked of what he had learned from the Templar Informant.

Just returning from the battlefield with the Orsini Family, the last thing that Cesare wanted to do right now was to have to deal with the problems that troubled him while in Roma. Spending months cooped in crowded tents with men and planning multiple strategies to win this war his father was fighting, all he wanted to do was surround himself with beautiful women. He would deal with business, yes, but he would enjoy his stay there before having to cause trouble with its residents.

"Very well, you are dismissed." He told the soldier and then turned to Micheletto Corella, his longtime companion and close friend. "We will enjoy ourselves first and then get down to business. Do not forget this Micheletto."

"Of course, my lord."

For as long as he could remember, Micheletto had been a close friend of his. Always following him no matter where it might be, heeding no fear of what lay before them, so long as it pleased his only friend. Cesare could think of no one better to stand side by side with, swords standing strong. Not even him and his older brother Giovanni shared such a bond, always being competitive for father's attention upon reaching their teen years.

Thinking of his older brother often left him gritting his teeth; he had everything that Cesare wanted out of life and it wasn't fair. He was father's favorite of all four children and was his better in everything, from combat to women, Giovanni was always the better of the two. And then there was him. Always second best, always in his brothers shadow. One day, he would find a way to step out of his brothers shadow and show their father that he was superior to his brother in every way, that he was the best choice to succeed him.

Casting a glance at Micheletto, he simply gave him a slight nod before the two continued down the street. It didn't take them long to reach their destination, the many courtesans which stood outside the entrance of the _Rosa in Fiore _giving the two nobles smiles of professional courtesy as they escorted them inside with hopes of scoring wealthy clients.

Entering the brothel, the two nobles were greeted by many women whom they'd had previous escapades with.

None were of his concern. He was tired of the same old whores that frequented their services to the men, something innocent and pure of heart. Cesare couldn't remember the last time he'd been in the presence of someone of that nature. It puzzled him to no ends _why_ he was craving the touch of a virgin—especially when he could have any woman he desired—yet, he found himself strangely drawn away from the women he looked at.

With each girl that surrounded him, he felt himself become more and more disgusted with what he saw. They were all shells of the beauty they once were, and here he was, fighting off their advances with the hopes of finding someone suitable for the night.

To his right, Micheletto had no problem with accepting the many women's advances. With a girl on either side of him, he turned to face Cesare and flashed him a boyish grin.

"Well, _amico mio_. It would appear that I will be retiring upstairs to have a wonderful evening with Elysa and Silvia here." His jaunty laughter echoed with the two women as they stood up. "Is there anything you need before my departure?"

"Go have a wonderful evening, my friend. I will find comfort in the arms of a companion of my own."

As the hours passed, the women began to lose interest in Cesare and he became just another face in the brothel. He preferred it this way. It allowed him the chance to look for what pleased his taste of the night and not be distracted by anyone who might think him to be ripe for the picking.

Everyone was having a good time, talk and laughter floating in from all corners of the room. He caught bits of conversations. Women promising men a night to remember, but the price of such a dream would come into questions and the conversation quickly went from sweet talking, to business. He grimaced at how there was no romance between the two. How they could exchange money for sex, then pass each other on the streets as if it had meant nothing between them.

_After all. What's sex without love?_

His attention wandered to the top of the stairs as a young girl began to descend from the second floor. She walked with the grace only a noblewoman could have, yet she was dressed in the same attire as the rest of the women. Her rich brown hair was tied up in a tight bun at the back of her head, her dark eyes scanning the crowd for someone who she might have a mutual evening with for the night.

Perhaps he would be the one that she was looking for.

Making his way across the room, he closed the distance between the two of them and met the young courtesan at the bottom of the staircase. She smiled brightly, a smile which Cesare returned as he took her hand in his and led her over to an empty sofa.

"_Bella donna_, you are astonishingly beautiful." His charm was making her cheeks flare red. "Even the mighty goddess Venus herself would be envious of such a woman as yourself."

"You flatter me, kind sir."

Her beauty was surpassed only by her youth in which Cesare could see clearly. It didn't take him long to figure out that the young beauty in front of him had recently become a courtesan and her apparent shyness made him wonder if she had even taken on her frist client. Even her laughter still carried a hint of youth. A childish giggle escaping her throat as she covered her mouth in embarrassment, the heat in her cheeks beginning to spread across her face.

"What is your name?" He asked.

"Lucia."

They continued to talk for what felt like hours, but was only minutes. With each exchange of words, he learned more and more about Lucia. He could see the subtle hints of unease, like she was expecting him to act a certain way to her, then surprise from her when he just smiled as her charmingly.

"_Amore mio_, is there something wrong? You seem a bit unease."

Lucia looked down at her lap, playing with the lace of her dress. "I am inexperienced in the ways of pleasure and, well, I do not wish to ruin your evening, _messer_."

Placing a hand to her cheek, he ran a finger over her silky skin. "Trust me, my dear. I have been on the battlefield for many months and yearn for the touch of a delicate flower such as yourself and would have nothing of the such ruin an evening as magnificent as this one."

Hesitant at first, the two of them slowly inched closer together until their lips met. It was a weak kiss at first, no passion behind it, but he'd been expecting that from her. Slowly Lucia began to relax, their kissing become more lusting and fluid while his hands began to explore the petite woman's body. Their lips parted slightly, tongues exploring the foreign territory of the other's mouth.

"Cesare Borgia, what an unexpected surprise." A cool, authoritive female voice said from behind him.

In an instant the moment between the two was ruined, Lucia was retreating from their close proxminity and standing in front of the couch. Her face was a red with embarrassment, not daring a glance. Turning to face the person who dare intrude on such a tender moment for the young virgin, Cesare found with much distain to see Madonna Solari standing before him. She wore a smug look on her wrinkling face; they never did get along that well.

"_Salute_, Madonna." He hid his displeasure at ruining their moment and forced on a smile despite her bothering him. "I was looking forward to spending the evening with Lucia before we discussed the incident with your precarious side dealings. But it would seem that you wish to get right down to business; so be it."

Leaving the young courtesan, the two of them walked upstairs. Most of the business that the Solari's dealt in was done out on the balcony that overlooked the front of the brothel where no one could hear what was going on. An ideal place for Cesare to also not be overheard as he put them in their places for trying to dip their wretched hands into the Borgia's affairs.

The night air was cool as they stepped out onto the balcony to where no one could hear them. It was just Cesare and the Solari siblings.

Santino was standing on the other side of the balcony near the railing. He was attired in casual clothing for the evening, a glass of wine in one hand as he stared off at the setting sun that was hanging just above _Basilica di San Pietro._ Upon hearing the two of them approach, he set the goblet down on the railing and turned to face them, getting both his sister and Cesare.

"_Buona sera_, Santino."

Santino's eyes met his and the two locked in a gaze that held for several seconds before Madonna broke the silence in the air.

"Well, now that you're here. How about we discuss business?"

"By all means, speak." He told Cesare.

Precariously leaning against the railing, he looked out over the streets below. The sheer audacity of these two compelled him to steady his hand from striking them down. To think, they thought that they could so easily swindle him and make their own mark in the trading of goods with their Constantinople allies.

For years he'd been organizing trades with the Constantinople Kingdom. Working out deals behind his wretched father's back, while supplying his allies with the necessary weapons to combat the Orsini family and that _bastardo_ Bartolomeo d'Alviano. The war was beginning to come to a close and the outcome would be in their favor, just another month of driving forward through their defenses and he would have them right where he wanted them.

And then a week ago, one of his spies had been scouting the harbor near the _Isola Tiberina _for any signs of the assassin brotherhood that his father had been telling him about. After hearing the report from the spy, Cesare had sought the Solari's out and had told them swift punishment would be coming their way. It was necessary to discipline those who would seek to do such a thing, if not done, any of the other scum would think they could do the same.

"I wasn't pleased to learn from one of my spies that you were impeding on my business, Santino." He ran a single finger along the railing of the balcony. There was venom in his voice. No one dare to betray them. "And if there's one thing I do not like, it is when people try to impede on my family's business."

"You must understand, I did not know the Borgia were involved in slave trading." Santino pleaded.

The look in his eyes pleaded mercy, but, he was in no mood for such a thing.

With a swift backhand, Santino fell to the ground. His goblet spilled over the railings, a scream erupting from Madonna as she rushed to her brother's side. There were three jagged cuts along his cheek from Cesare's rings; no doubt scars would be left behind.

"_Aiuto!" _Santino shouted, but his cry for help went unheard.

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, Cesare lifted the man up and continued his assault. Each strike dealt to Santino left bloody imprints of his rings, blood oozing from a broken nose and swollen eyes. More screaming from Madonna yielded nothing, her punches doing little damage as she pounded on him with her fists. It just felt so good, releasing all this pent up rage that by the time he even realized how far he had gone, Micheletto was fighting to pull him off the man.

"_Amico mio!" _He shouted, grappling his arms down to his sides and pinning them. "That is enough, brother."

Cesare had never meant for the beating to go beyond a single slap, but he'd lost it. A blazing madness had wound its way into his heart and he'd been powerless to stop it, unleashing hell upon a man who was now broken, being held tenderly by his sibling.

"Please,_ messer_!" Madonna pleaded as she held her battered brother in her arms. "There must be some kind of agreement we can come to? _Si?_"

The thought had never crossed his mind, but what could they possibly have that he could take?

He was the son of the pope. A cardinal. There was nothing that he couldn't claim, yet, they thought of him to have something to be offered by them.

"Very well. Let us see what it is you have to offer me."

* * *

Being laid up in her bedchambers for two days was not something that Fiora had been enthusiastic about.

When she'd come back to the brothel yesterday, the other girls had become hysterical over her appearance. No one in over a decade had ever laid their hands on a courtesan at the _Rosa in Fiore_, well, not something that would equal to such brutality as this. Even Aryana, who hated her with a passion had helped tend to her injuries until a _dottore_ was brought to her bedchamber.

The medication that she'd received from the _dottore_ had done little to soothe the pain that was spiking throughout her body, but Fiora was just thankful that there hadn't been any severe injuries. Just thinking of what else could've happen to her, it made her glad that all she'd received were some bruises that would leave her couped up in her own bed for a few days. Of course, she wouldn't be able to take on any clients for quite some time as well.

So for now Fiora was just content to spend the time in her room relaxing. It wasn't as exhilirating as spanning the rooftops of Roma, but, there wasn't much that she could do about it. At least it was a beautiful night. The moonlight was shining down brightly upon them and bathing the city in a spectacular luminance like no other.

It wasn't all bad.

She entertained herself with Chess whenever Lucia was available and was served the best foods by the cooks in the kitchen next door.

Being safe in her bed was a lot better than being out on the streets where any random stranger could walk up to her and stick a blade in her. No one knew she was here besides the other girls. If anyone that was associated with Arturo came looking for her, they would never find her. There wasn't even evidence that Fiora had ever been at his villa, but that wouldn't stop them from trying to seek her out.

Yawning, she looked out the window and noticed that it was getting close to being night. She'd been asleep all day and now felt as if no time had passed by at all, yet found herself unable to will herself to sleep. It was as if something was compelling her to stay awake. So against her better judgement, she obeyed it and swung her legs across the side of the bed to place them firmly on the hardwood floor. Her arm hadn't been broken as she'd thought it was, but nonetheless, it still hurt when she opened the door and entered the hallway of the second floor of the brothel. Most of the girls were downstairs or either in their rooms attending to their clients, so Fiora was thankful for not having scowls thrown her way when they would see her sitting at the bar.

Each step was laboured with pain, but not bad enough where it was intolerable. She was use to taking beatings. Most men felt emasculated after making love to a courtesan and had to gain their barrings back by slapping around the girl if they chose to do so. They usually ended up paying a hefty fine for it, but, there wasn't much else that could be done.

Sitting down at the bar, she gave the bartender a placid look before he moved to fetch her the usual drink Fiora would order. All she wanted to do right now was drink away the pain in her body. To forget everything that made up her life, to truly believe the lies that she told herself everyday. That one day, a man was going to actually care about her and love her for more than her skills in the art of sexual satisfaction.

"To the dream." She said with a slight grin, then downed her entire goblet of wine.

It was bittersweet, a reminder of what her life was starting to become if she didn't soon make some changes. Sooner or later, her appeal was going to falter and she would no longer have a job in this business. It was a much dreaded day, but was inevitable.

As she sat there, Fiora thought she could hear yelling from above her. It was very faint, the chatter of the brothel's occupants squandering any chance at being able to hear what had been said, but, she knew that there was definitely something going on outside. Not that she wanted to become involved in anyone's matters.

Fiora sat there in silence for a few minutes before the door on the second floor that led out onto the balcony opened and the sound of footsteps could be heard as the floorboards creaked above her head. Several moments later the Solari's and a man she'd never seen before descended the staircase. There was something strange about the way Santino was holding his face, something had happened, but Fiora just ignored them as the bartender sat another drink in front of her.

"I assure you, Cesare, that this will never happen again." Madonna pleaded as she led the man named cesare and her brother into the small space that served as their office.

_Cesare Borgia? What the hell are they doing to garner the attention of the Borgia?_

The only thing that Fiora could think of that would interest the Borgia was last month when she and Lucia had gone out with Santino. While in his company, Fiora and Lucia had been treated violently by Santino, and Fiora suspected that whatever it was that Santino was dabbling in, his trade was crumbling.

She'd rather forget about that night and the threats that had been placed upon her by Santino. Whatever punishment the Borgia dealt to the man was too good for him. He had done such horrid things over the last few years that Fiora had been working for them, it was no surprise that it would eventually catch up to him.

What had that french messenger call it? Karma?

_Yes, that was right. It was karma._

For the next twenty minutes there were loud shouts and exchanging of words coming from their office. It ruined her mood for drinking, which she decided wasn't the best course of action to take while still recovering.

Still, she sat there and listened.

Moments later, Cesare and Madonna reentered the foyer of the brothel and both walked over to where a small desk was at. Her eyes followed them, they looked to be trying to not draw attention to themselves, but was doing a terrible job at it. Most didn't notice them; Fiora had. They were arguing quiet about something. Cesare seemed to be dominating much of the conversation from how Madonna was nervously twirling a strand of her blonde hair.

It was then that Fiora decided she no longer cared for what was happening between the two and return to her room.

Getting up from her seat at the bar, Fiora began to slowly walk towards the staircase. Her aching limbs protested against her movements, but she didn't let it show. Placing her hand on the stairs, she slowly began to ascend the staircase when she heard someone call out her name from down below.

"Fiora! I wish to speak with you before you retire for the evening." Madonna Solari's voice was authorative and intense.

Daring not to risk a quarrel with her, Fiora whirled around and made her way over to where the two were standing at. There was high tension in the air between the two, a single movement like lightning striking a tree and splitting it down the middle. All Fiora could do was make sure that she wasn't between the two when the lightning struck.

"Yes, Madonna Solari?" She said with a mask of joy.

"How are you this evening?"

"I'm doing quite well," Something wasn't right. Never had Madonna Solari been so humane to her, she usually spoke with poison behind her words. "Why do you ask?"

She flashed her a smile and introduced the man next to her. "This is Cesare Borgia. I'm sure you've heard of him, _si?_"

Fiora nodded.

"I am giving you to him for the night, free of charge, as an apology for a misunderstanding he had with Santino."

This made her feel uneasy. Surely she knew that Fiora was still recovering from her injuries and there was no way that she would be able to perform her usual services with Cesare. Not if she wanted to risk irritating her injuries any more than what they already were. It could cause her to become broken, to no longer be able to do her job, which would have her dismissed from the brothel.

From the look that Madonna Solari was giving her, it didn't look like she had much of a choice. She didn't want to get in bad with the Borgia's for refusing this man her services for the night; Fiora couldn't afford to make an enemy out of the most powerful family in all of _Italia_. Rather than face that, she would refrain to entertaining this man tonight. She would give him the night of his life, something he'd never forget.

Leading Cesare up the staircase, they made their way down to one of the unused bedchambers. Closing the door behind them, she took a deep breath as she began to calculate what it would take to please this man.

"What is it that you would like, _messer?_" She asked in a practiced voice. It was enticing. Meaning to show her client that Fiora was willing to fufill his or her fantasies no matter what it was.

When she turned around, Fiora saw that Cesare wasn't lying on the bed or even attempting to walk towards it. Instead he was standing next to her large bed, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as if all of this was just some big joke. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable, the room shrinking in around her and making her begin to sweat.

"Please, have a seat." Cesare said as he sat down on the bed, patting it for her to sit down.

Not sure what to do at first, she hesitated for a moment before slinking seductively over to the bed and sat down beside him. There was a slight musk coming from the man. A pleasant scent that wasn't too overbearing, yet would make most young women swoon over him. Her heart was racing, Fiora had no idea why, but there was a presence about this man that left her flustered and begging for more. It confused her to no end. Fiora didn't even know the man, yet found herself wanting to be held in his arms and never letting the embrace end. She barely knew him. Men weren't even appealing to her; she just fucked them because it came with her job. Yet, she still felt something for him.

"Don't be alarmed; I do not wish to hurt you." He smiled. "Do you know why you were given to me?"

Fiora shook her head.

To be honest, she had no idea why Madonna Solari had given her to this man for the night. She was their best courtesan and it was very risky of her to put forth her best asset just to please one man.

"You are mine now, Fiora. In exchange for me not having the two of them executed out in the city proper, the Solari's have given you to me. You will no longer be working in this place, but, instead will be working for me."

Her eyes went wide with shock after he was finished.

_Those bastardo's sold me!?_

"Surely this is a joke?"

Cesare let out a jaunty laugh. "I am sorry, _amore mio_, but this isn't."

She wasn't a piece of property for those _bastardo's_ to barter with when a deal didn't go as they'd expected. And yet, Fiora didn't have much of a choice in the matter now. Refusing his offer would surely result in him having her head on his mantle. But was it better than living out the rest of her life fucking men just to get through the day? It wasn't as if he was asking her to sleep with him every night.

This was something she'd been dreaming of since the day she'd been raped by her first client. A way out of this dreadful life. Being able to afford a comfortable living, while being able to actually live out her life rather than being a throw rug where a man would place his cock.

"I will no longer have to bed with a stranger?" She asked. If this man was offering her a way out, Fiora would have to be mad not to accept it.

He took her hand in his, kissing it tenderly as he cast his eyes onto hers. "Of course, _mia bella_."

That was all Fiora needed to her.

With a genuine smile, she accepted Cesare Borgia's offer.


	4. Chp 4: Order of the Knights Templar

**Chapter Four**  
**Order of the Knights Templar**

**I wanted to try something new in this chapter. Jumping a considerable amount of time into the future of the story can cause some confusion, so I will be writing up a short summary of whats transpired since the end of chapter three as a way to keep you up to date with what has happened. I'm not sure if I will be keeping this format yet. We will have to wait and see how it works.**

* * *

_May, 1497._

_Several months have passed since Fiora took on an apprenticeship with Cesare Borgia. As time went on, she began to learn of the challenges that awaited her._

_The Bonfire of the Vanities initiated by Girolamo Savonarola have begun to take their toll to the north in Firenze, talk of the Apple of Eden being used by the friar reached the ears of the Templar spies. Attempts to liberate the object from the leader of Firenze were unsuccessful and have left the Templar's in a frenzy over how to obtain the object._

_Meanwhile, Cesare plots his rise to power by becoming the Captain General of the Papal Armies..._

Dawn was fast approaching, the first hint of daylight spilling across the blackened sky to illuminate a new day. The sky was painted a deep purple-red as the sun slowly began to ascend to its throne high among the clouds. Its vibrant rays of light spilling across Roma. Smoke billowed up from the smoke stacks of numerous shops and homes as they prepared for the days business.

Standing on the balcony of the home she currently occupied, Fiora let out a soft sigh at the sight of what was in front of her. It would appear that the rumors she'd heard from plenty of the other girls at the brothel had been true. Dawn was a sight most splendid when viewed from theVaticano district, an idyllic picturesque set next to the heavenly kingdom of the _Cappella Sistina_. A diamond that was only meant for the eyes of the faithful to behold and yet, here she was being graced with its sight.

Turning away from the balcony, she entered her room and walked over to where the closet was at so that she could get ready for the day.

Throwing open the folding doors to her closet, Fiora smiled jubilantly at the many fine clothes displayed in front of her. She didn't know what to think of all this; it was all too much for her. Never before had she ever had so many clothes to choose from and although most of them were dresses for public appearance, it made her smile as she ran a finger over the delicate silk that would hug her curves like true sin. Past the sultry reds, ambitious blues and vibrant greens, Fiora rested her eyes on the last dress in the line of the many in front of her.

Usually dresses repulsed her and just the thought of wearing one made her ill, however she found that the scandalous pink dress spoke for itself. It was very confining in the chest area and thankfully there was no need for a hand to help with the back since there was no corset. The dress was so small that it naturally hugged the very frame of her body, leaving no need for it to be tightened. Her bosom was slightly pushed up, although an unwanted attention grabber, it would prove useless for her to alter the dress.

Standing in front of the mirror to admire herself, Fiora couldn't help but feel vulnerable. The dress she was wearing made her appear more lady-like; nothing like the deadly seductress that she had been rumored to be by the hushed voices of the other courtesans whom she had once shared her home with. It would have to do for now; she didn't want to seem ungrateful for the hospitable generosity from the Borgias. Her hair elegantly rested over her right shoulder, spilling down to her chest to cover her breasts.

Putting on her shoes, she left her room and made her way down the hall to where the staircase was at. The few servants that had been given to Fiora for her home were already up, hastily preparing themselves to serve her for the day. Not that they would be needed. If the last eight years of her life as a courtesan had taught Fiora anything, it was that relying on one's self was crucial to surviving in the wilderness that was life in Roma.

"_Buon giorno_, Lady Cavazza." The elderly housemaid said with a bright smile as she walked past her. Her teeth were blackened and decayed with years of neglectful good oral hygiene, but, she could see that it was one of genuine and not false.

"_Buon giorno_," She said with a smile that also felt genuine for the first time in quite some time.

It never occurred to her until now, that she was finally rid of all the burdens that she'd carried with her from the first moment she'd laid with her first client and was raped by him. Just thinking of that day uncoiled a buried anger within her that simmered like a boiling cauldron, ready to burst at any given moment. She clenched and unclenched her hands. No longer did she have to suffer through the indignity of having her most intimate of areas invaded by a random stranger, but rather could choose who to lay with based upon love.

_Love._

That was one word that Fiora thought would never again enter her thoughts since she was a young girl in _Firenze_.

Stepping out into the streets of Roma, the first thing she noticed was the numerous cardinals which filled the streets. On either side of her, there were men dressed in the traditional white and red robes of the clergymen, those impossibly ridiculous hats adorned on their heads as they passed through the streets. It made her wonder how they balanced them on their heads given how large they were.

With a smile on her face, Fiora began to walk down the street and towards the _Castel Sant'Angelo_. There were multiple patrols out walking the streets this early, soldiers who on any normal day would stop her in mid-stride and force her to leave the district, but not anymore. Working for the son of the Pope did have its benefits it seemed; now Fiora walked the streets as she pleased and no guard dare speak a word to her. They just stood there: some with narrowed eyes, some trying to keep their eyes from leaving its sockets.

It didn't take her long to find the gates of the _Castel Sant'Angelo_. Not that you could miss the dominating structure as it took up the entire space of the northeastern mass. A towering cylindrical building that was the resting place of the Roman emperor Hadrian, also called Hadrian's mole, was erected on the right bank of the Tiber, sometime between 130 AD and 139 AD. Thick walls circled the complex, giving whoever was in command a strong defensive position. The _Ponte Sant'Angelo_ connected the structure to the Centro district, extending over the _Isola Tiberina_ and into Roma. Currently, it was being used as both a castle and prison by the Borgias.

Standing in front of the gate, she passed the guards and traveled through a courtyard that looked more like a soldiers training room. The courtyard led her to the left and through a gate, taking her inside the castle and up a spiraling staircase decorated with lavish carpeting and ornaments that alone would give a person wealth lasting long beyond their years. Another door took her up a separate flight of stairs and past a grand library; it looked like someone enjoyed reading a lot of books.

Entering the library, Fiora found Cesare talking with two clergymen. She had no idea what they were talking about, but judging from the looks on the men's face it couldn't be good. There were guards standing on either side of the entrance, neither looked at her as she passed by them and approached the three men.

"_Buon giorno,_ gentlemen." She greeted the three men with a smile as they turned to face her. "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"Of course not," Cesare said and dismissed the two gawking clergymen, then motioned for Fiora to join him in the next room.

Walking into the room Fiora sat opposite of Cesare, casually crossing one leg over the other as she waited for him to speak.

"As you know, Fiora, you were inducted into the ranks of the Knights Templar by my father, the Pope, a month ago." He cupped both of his hands together, leaning against the table that separated the two of them. "You still have training to complete if you are to become one of us; I have the perfect assignment for you as well. The outcome of this will determine what your final test will be."

The smile that formed on Cesare's delicately shaped face made her feel slightly uneasy. He was about to ask something of her that Fiora knew she would be hesitant to offer to any other man, but she couldn't refuse him, regardless of what he asked for. The man had brought her from the filth of that brothel and had given her life meaning again. She owed him her life, if nothing else. No matter what, she was obligated to do as asked.

"What is it that you wish, my lord?" That last part of her sentence tasted of foreign words, not something Fiora Cavazza would ever say, yet alone to a man.

"I want you to travel to the Pantheon, in the Centro district. Meet with a contact that I have there," Cesare pulled out a parchment and began to write something on it. "Give him this, and then wait for his instructions on what to do next. Once you have received word from him, you are to meet with Luigi. He will be waiting for you at the butcher shop in the area and help you with the next part of your mission."

She could tell from the look in his eyes that this wasn't to be taken lightly, that failure was not going to be tolerated. Not that she had anything to worry about. If there was anything that Fiora had proven to her brethren since joining the Knights Templar, it was that she would do whatever it took to succeed in her mission. No matter what the cost, Fiora made sure things were taken care of.

"Very well."

"There is one last thing before you go," Cesare said to her as the two of them walked out of the room. "Do not speak of anyone about this. This is just between you, the other Templars involved and myself. _Capito?_"

"_Si._"

After being dismissed, Fiora made her way across the bridge and delved deep into the heart of the Centro district. People were traveling back and forth through the crowded streets. A gang of children ran down the street to her left, snatching the purse from a nobleman who had been in the process of buying a sword from a blacksmith, the man scrambled after them while shouting for the guards at the stairs at the far end. The streets reminded her of when she was younger, living in _Firenze_ with her family before their deaths. Everything looked so lively. The buildings were modeled to perfection; the streets didn't smell sour from fecal waste and other nauseous aromas that would send a cardinal running the other way like the poor districts.

Everywhere she turned, she saw how clean the streets of the Centro district were. Not as clean and habitual as the Vaticano district of course, but it was better than living in what she'd once considered to be her home at the _Rosa in Fiore_. Just thinking of that place sent a shiver down her spine, Fiora was glad that she would never have to lay her head down at night there ever again.

Back in _Firenze_, before Fiora had traveled to Roma, she'd lived out the first two years of her life in what had later come to be known as the Warrens. A place where there was so much poverty, gang activity and death, that most who lived there were never expected to live long. Prostitution and rape was common, the female gender living only so long as what was between their legs would last them; then being cast aside much like a half-eaten apple. If disease struck, there was no hope for you. No one gave a damn about its residents either. As long as they didn't have to deal with the cutthroats or whores who came out during the night, they would look the other way and continue on with their lives as if nothing was going on in that part of the city.

It made her truly appreciate what had been given to her by the Borgias and she didn't plan on taking any of it for granted.

Behind her, a group of pigeons on the ground near the mouth of an alley had taken to flight. Turning to look at the birds as they furiously flew off to find another place to roost at; she couldn't help but wonder what had caused them to stir from their spot. Was someone following her? Looking around, her eyes traveled across every crevice that could be used for proper cover and then looked up towards the roofs of the surrounding buildings. Aside from the blue sky, there was nothing to see.

_That's odd..._

Making sure to keep her awareness of her surroundings, she continued down the street with an observant eye. The crowds were growing thicker as Fiora continued through the district, on multiple occasions she would bump into a person and they would shoot her a look of hatred before melting back into the crowd.

Eventually she made her way through the Centro district and found herself standing in front of the Pantheon. Just staring up at the structure, Fiora felt that the ever vigilant eyes of the almighty Lord were upon her and scrutinizing her for her past sins. Not that she gave a damn. She didn't believe in god. How could she? Especially after the hell that had become her life at the age of thirteen.

The building itself was rather intricate in design: multiple columns of pillars supported the stretch of roof that overlooked the streets below. Several banisters with the Church's insignia were displayed at intervals in between the first column of pillars, blowing gently in the cool summer breeze. On either side of the towering structure, it was surrounded by small businesses run by those who attended mass when prayers were done in the building. In the middle of the busy square sat a fountain, several flocks of pigeons had taken to nestling in it like a giant bird bath.

Swallowing heavily, she crossed the threshold of the square to the front doors of the Pantheon and knocked twice to see if anyone would come to the door.

If not, she'd have to find another way inside.

Several moments later, the doors opened and a cardinal was standing in front of her. When he saw her, the look on his face was a mixture of confusion and disgust; he obviously hadn't been expecting to see that the person Cesare had sent was a woman. Looking around, he ushered her inside the church and closed the doors behind them.

"I did not know that Cesare's informant was a woman. Please forgive me if I was offensive." The cardinal babbled on as he guided her through the pews of the church and towards a door that was at the back.

Fiora paid no heed to any of his words, too captivated by the wondrous room she had stepped into. The entire room was outlined in gold, light shimmering immaculately from every ordinate piece of furnishing. Several pews lined the middle of the room, taking up a vast majority of space. An oriental carpet stretched the length of the room, traveling from outside the door to the wall across from her. At the far end of the room sat an altar, on either side were candles to be lit during worshiping hours. Two other men stood in front of the altar, their heads bowed in prayer.

Now she knew why the Borgias coveted the Pantheon the way they did. The place was a palace. Easily twice as magnificent as the home she'd been given by Cesare, with the exception that it was as well twice as big.

"This way, my dear." The cardinal stood at the open door and waved for her to join him. "My name is Cardinal Bartolucci, but you may call me Benito."

Fiora simply nodded.

Taking notice of her professional demeanor, Benito walked over to where his desk was at and sat down.

Standing in front of the desk, Fiora pulled the parchment from her satchel and handed it to him.

Unrolling the scroll, Benito picked up his glasses from the desk and then observed the parchment. He spent several minutes looking at it, the coded message within taking him longer to decypher than what she'd liked, but, there wasn't much else that needed to be done. After decyphering the coded message, Benito picked up a quill and dipped it into some ink before scribbling something down beneath the cypher that had been given to her.

"What does it say?" She demanded.

When he was finished, Benito stood up, rolled the scroll and handed it to her.

"I do not know," Benito stated nonchalantly as he walked with her to the door. "I suggest you go to your next contact and have him tell you, I wrote down everything he needs to know."

Before leaving, she thanked Benito and left.

Stepping back out into the streets, she stuffed the parchment back into her satchel and looked around for the location of the building where she was to meet Luigi. It didn't take her long to find it. Anyone who could smell the strong stench of meat knew right away that they were near a butcher shop, it was hard to miss. A gathering of beggars had formed outside the building since she'd gone inside the Pantheon, one of the servants was throwing out spoiled meat and as the rank meat splattered wetly to the ground, the crowd of beggars began savagely fighting for the biggest pieces.

It disgusted her how easily the poor gave in to their transgressions, as if they could not better themselves and were resolved to eat the scraps that were thrown to them like the dogs they were.

A pair of young girls flocked to the scene began clawing and pulling at a big piece of meat, much like hyenas on the savanna. The servant who had taken it out there watched them with a look on his face that Fiora knew far too well.

Pushing her way through the crowd of beggars, she approached the servant.

"What do you want, woman?" He asked, more interested in the two prepubescent girls fighting over the piece of meat than what he was her.

"I'm here to see Luigi," She told him, reaching into her satchel and pulling out the parchment. "He is supposed to be translating something for me."

The servant considered her words and then turned back to walk inside. "_Si_, this way."

Following the servant into the shop, Fiora was led through the front of the store. Hanging from the roof was a rack with several meat hooks attached. Several sides of raw meat hung from the rack, they looked to be ready to putrefy within the next two days if not consumed before spoiling. They proceeded into the back, passing through the stock room where many animals were locked in cages. It smelled strong with day old feces and piss, forcing her to cover her mouth and nose to block out the stench; it did little good though, the very air she breathed stank of the foul defecation.

Coming to a stop in front of a single door at the back of the shop, the servant told her that Luigi was waiting for her inside and then dismissed himself back to the front.

Pushing open the door, she found herself in a corridor that stretched forward and then ended where another door stood. With a sigh, Fiora began walking down the corridor. One thing she could be thankful for was that the stench of death and rot no longer permeated the air. On her left there was a storage room filled with crates of products that they sold in the back after the sun went down, nothing that would be useful to her.

Keeping her wits about her, Fiora looked around the room as she stepped inside. The room was completely empty, say for the two individual's who stood in front of a naked man. He was bound at the wrists, his filth covered body supported by the hook that the bindings were secured to. Blood ran down from multiple cuts on his body, pooling onto the stained floor and into the drain.

Both men turned to face her as she stood there, unable to take her eyes off the sight in front of her. It had been some time since Fiora had come across someone being tortured and she'd forgotten how gruesome it could be. Her stomach churned, the bile at the back of her throat willed away. It would be a mistake to show vulnerability in front of these men, not one which she would wish to make either.

"Ah, you must be Lady Cavazza, _si_?" The man on her right said as they both bowed. He turned to face the man suspended from the hook, then told the other man he'd be back momentarily. "My name is Luigi. Please, let us speak out in the hall."

Stepping out into the hall, Fiora reached into her satchel and placed in his hand the parchment which had been decyphered by Benito.

"I see," He looked at the cypher with curiosity. "This is a very difficult one, I have seen its construct used only once before. Give me a moment to examine it."

For the next several moments, they stood there in silence as Luigi looked over the page. While he went to work, Fiora couldn't help but notice the haunted moans of agony coming from within the chamber she'd been in moments before. Cries of pleading could be heard, met only with more screaming as the torturing continued. It made her want to take leave, to never have to come back to such a wretched place, but, as frightening as her surroundings were she could not leave yet.

"It is finished," Luigi announced just as another chorus of painful screams rang from the room. "Your _maestro_, he truly wishes to go through with this?"

She looked at him confused.

"What do you mean, Luigi?"

Snatching the parchment from his hand, Fiora studied the written cypher on it, unable to believe what she was reading. Surely the man was mistaken? There was no way she could ever see Cesare with enough ambition to murder someone just to further advance himself, could she? As much as the two hated each other, they were brothers and that bond was stronger than any blade could hope to pierce. Well, that was what she had thought to be; apparently that was no longer the case.

"He wishes to kill his elder brother, Giovanni Borgia."

"Impossible! Cesare would never do such a thing!" She yelled at the butcher. He just shook his head, not really caring for her opinion of what the message had said. It was he who knew the language of the cipher, not her, so who was _she_ to tell him what he had read?

For the time that she'd come to know Cesare, Fiora had always seen him as a kind-hearted man who wouldn't belittle his honor with furthering his ambitions by killing his own brother. Of course, knowing someone for only three months was not enough time to judge their morals. For now, she was just going to have to hope that it was just some sick joke and that he had no future plans such as this.

When she was done speaking with Luigi, Fiora departed from the butcher shop and started back down the street she'd come from.

The enter walk, all she could think of was the message inscribed on the scroll. Could it be true that Cesare wanted to murder his own brother? A million possibilities of this swam through her consciousness, trying to find some reason to this or even an answer as to why he would want to. Nothing came to thought, leaving her fearing the outcome of such a thing being possible.

_What sort of leccare il culo merda would run into someone and not even apologize for it!?_ She thought as she got to her feet, brushing off the dirt from her dress and was about to continue walking when she noticed that she suddenly felt lighter. Patting herself down, it wasn't until a moment passed that she noticed her satchel that held the scroll she was suppose to bring back to Cesare was missing.

Cursing loudly, she began to look around the street to see if maybe she had dropped it when that rude person had bumped into her. She was still fuming over that occurrence when she came to the realization that it was nowhere to be found. Had that...no, she didn't want to admit the possibility of a Thief having pick-pocketed her, but there was no other explanation for the missing satchel other than that. Quickly, her eyes scanned the crowd to locate the culprit but she found no one. However, when her eyes were cast to the rooftops, she could make out the vague form of a shadow running towards a smokestack in the distance.

With quickness that would surprise most people, Fiora traveled down the street in the direction that the mysterious person had gone until she found an alley that held a ladder for her to be able to gain access to the rooftops. The only problem was keeping an eye out for archers, they knew not of her affiliation with the Borgia's and would treat her the same as any other commoner caught above the buildings. Leaping from one roof to the next, she had to pace herself and watch where she stepped. The last thing she wanted to have happen was to fall to her death and running across rooftops in heels also didn't help her cause any either.

As she drew nearer, she was able to finally make out what the person looked like. A white robe covered most of his body, armor and leather straps covering most of the midsection and vambraces secured over his forearms.

It amazed her at how fast he was able to move, regardless of being weighted down by the heavy armor that he wore. Eventually they came to where a rather large gap separated the rooftop that they were on and the one across from them, giving her a few previous seconds to finally catch up with the man.

"I'll take that satchel back, _amico mio_." She purred, stretching out her hand to him.

The white robed man said nothing, instead he simply turned around to face her.

Seconds passed by, the two staring each other down as they both waited for the other to make the first move. His face was shadowed by the hood he wore, making it impossible for Fiora to determine any distinguishable traits of the man; all she could see was the lower half of his face. Her right hand was down to her side, her fingers clasped tightly around the dagger that she'd brought with her in preparation of complications arising. It would appear that she had not been foolish for wanting to bring it after all.

A smirk perked up at the corner of the white robed man's mouth, it would appear that the thought of being pursued by a woman was amusing to him.

"I do not wish to harm you, turn around and walk away." He told her calmly. His voice was void of all emotion, not wanting to give away whom he might be by her hearing him speak.

"I will do no such thing," She retorted, taking a step towards the man. "Hand over the satchel! Do not force me to confront you."

A deep sign escaped his lips, he did not wish to harm a woman but she was leaving him with no other alternative.

"Very well, I suggest you brace yourself."

Unclasping the dagger from its sheath, she pulled it up to level with her chest and watched as he did the same. She could feel the tension in the air between them, that lingering feeling in the pit of her stomach as she anxiously waited for the opposition to make the next move.

With swiftness that caught her off guard, the white robed man lunged forward with his own dagger, giving her very little time to raise her own in defense. The clang of steel hitting steel filled the air, both maneuvering against the other as blows were exchanged. She brought her fist up, hitting him hard across the face, throwing him off as she broke his guard and made a sloppy downward swipe, which he easy countered by grabbing her wrist with his free hand and smashing the elbow of his weapon hand against her face.

Stumbling backwards, Fiora took a moment to collect herself. The all to familiar taste of blood was on her tongue, this filthy_ porco_ had had the audacity to actually strike her! A cry of vengeance roared deep from within her as she continued her assault. It did no good however, she was outmatched by this mans skill and it enraged her knowing that he was parrying everything she threw at him.

This man was a lot faster than what Fiora gave him credit for, he moved with such agility and grace that none of her brothers had. It made her feel so insignificant. She was out of her league and she knew it. The only problem with such a revelation was that she was unwilling to accept it.

She'd never been one to back down from anything, especially when it came to men. She hated most men, had ever since she was a young girl. The only reason Fiora even slept with men was because most of the clientele that were female never came to sleep with other females, but rather the few males that had been employed by the Solari's.

"Are you done?" The assassin calmly asked. He was unmoved by her strenuous assault, not even a hint of exhaustion.

However, Fiora was between deep breaths while trying her best to show no weakness. Her training had yet to begin and it was showing, she hadn't even half the stamina of her opponent and the fabric of her dress was clinging to her sweating form, as well as the bun of her hair was now messily undone.

"F-Far from it, _assassino!_"

Lunging forward with her free hand, she aimed a punch directly at his face, which was easily countered when he used his own free hand to block her. Of course, this had been her intention from the start. While the assassin wasn't looking, Fiora brought her foot up between them and kicked the assassin square in the stomach. Lurching backwards, he hit the ground hard on his back and rolled several feet before stopping.

Wasting no time, Fiora stepped forward while he was stuck in a state of stupor and began to cut the strap of her satchel from around his waist. Once she was in possession of the message, she turned and quickly made her way towards the church in the distance. She could use the bell tower to get down to the streets rather than be questioned by the guards on why a noblewoman was on the roof. It wasn't that far of a run, lucky for her there was never any Borgia guards stationed at the roof during this time of the day so there were no complications.

Behind her, the familiar sound of tiles shifting was heard.

One glance over her shoulder confirmed that it was indeed the assassin. She had no idea why he was so interested in the letter she had, it wasn't as if they were going to risk their lives to save a Borgia. Once she got down into the street, she was going to need to find some guards to throw him off her trail or else she'd never make it back to the _Castel Sant'Angelo_ at this rate. Opening the gate to the tower, she quickly dashed down the winding staircase, through the doors of the chapel and into the street.

"Guards! Guards! _Assassino_! Help!" She frantically cried out, sounding as hysterical as she could. Moments later, four guards came running from around the corner and over to where she was.

"Where is he!" The one at the front asked as they all readied themselves.

"He's in there!" Fiora pointed to the church and the four guards took off running towards the doors to the chapel just as they were slammed open.

"Stop! Do not move, or you will die!" One of the guards shouted.

The assassin stopped in his tracks, clearly taken by surprise as the guards blocked his path to her. Looking past them, his eyes met hers and for a brief moment Fiora could have sworn he looked familiar to her. Not that it mattered, he was about to be killed by the four guards and she surely wasn't going to stick around to watch the show.

With a smile and a kiss blown in his direction, Fiora disappeared around the corner and into the crowd.


End file.
